Stop Running
by AngelMoon Girl
Summary: Because sometimes, what happens under the watchful eyes of the Eiffel Tower has a way of following unsuspecting agents home. Sometimes, breaking a rule brings unexpected consequences and carefully hidden truths out into the open. Tags to "Jet Lag".


Disclaimer: NOT ONLY DO I NOT OWN NCIS, BUT I DON'T OWN IT AT THE *TOP OF MY VOICE*! Heh. Little "Truth or Consequences" reference for you all, yes?

**~Stop Running~**

_Summary: Because sometimes, what happens under the eternally watchful eyes of the Eiffel Tower has a way of following one home. Sometimes, breaking a rule brings unexpected consequences and carefully hidden truths out into the open. Tags to "Jet Lag"._

He jumped into the elevator with mere seconds to spare; any later and self-proclaimed casanova Tony DiNozzo might have had to kiss one of his precious appendages goodbye. There was a dull _ping_ as the doors locked tight with a fatalistic thud. Tony settled himself beside the only other occupant, ignoring her tiny noise of exasperation as he pivoted to accost the dark-haired Israeli.

"_Ziva David_." Deftly, his hand snaked out to flick on the emergency brake, elevator coming to a grinding halt. The lights dimmed in the absence of power, but Tony was so close to his partner that he could clearly make out the startled expression gracing her delicate features. "You have been avoiding me."

Bemusement and what might potentially have been fear danced across the woman's face before, in typical Ziva fashion, she chased the emotions away with a fiercely donned blank mask. "And why would you assume that, Tony?"

"Oh, I don't know," the aforementioned brunette feigned sarcastically. He took a small step forward, chest brushing Ziva's. Tony watched as she swallowed reflexively at their proximity, but the niggling sense of wanting to sweep her into his arms took a backseat to more pressing matters. Matters that had prompted him to make suicidal leaps through closing elevator doors just to catch the stealthy Probationary Agent before she retired home for the night. "Maybe it has something to do with the fact that we've hardly exchanged a word that wasn't case-related the past few days? And that any time I've tried to corner you, bait you, or just plain start up a conversation, you retreat like a... like a spurned lover!"

Ziva winced at Tony's phrasing, but did not confirm nor deny his accusations. Instead, she continued to stare into Tony's countenance, brown eyes boring a hole into his stormy viridian as if waiting for the gavel to fall.

"Is this about Paris? Are you mad at me?" Tony asked at last, trying to keep his voice neutral- a futile endeavor, he realized, in the aftermath of its betrayal.

Ziva blinked at the genuine hurt she heard lurking in her partner's query. With a weary sigh, the Israeli ex-assassin rubbed at her forehead. "No, Tony, I am not angry with you."

"Then why the cold shoulder, Zi?" Tony pressed, trapping her nervous fingers in his and desperately trying to understand. "This _is_ about Paris... isn't it?"

Ziva didn't answer, so Tony ploughed on. "I thought we parted that morning on the same terms. We both agreed it couldn't happen again. There was too much at stake for it to go beyond one night, not to mention Rule #12-"

"I am pregnant, Tony."

"-and Gibbs would've killed us on the spot if he..." Tony froze in his rambling, dropping Ziva's hand in shock as her softly uttered statement took meaning in his head. She gazed up at him, imploringly; frightened; conflicted. "What did you just say?"

Ziva threw the man a glare; she could tell from his chalky appearance Tony hadn't had any problem processing her admission, but for all Ziva's bravado it did nothing stop the woman's legs from giving way. Saying those words, out loud, finally made it real. Ziva sunk to the floor of the elevator, scooting back against the wall as if to draw solidarity from its unyielding strength. She wrapped her arms around herself and observed keenly as Tony raked a hand through his buzzcut. "You heard me. I am having a baby. _Your_ baby, Tony."

Tony knew he was grasping at straws, but he just had to know- "Are you sure it's mine?"

"Of course I am sure, DiNozzo," Ziva hissed, and Tony cringed at the venom that had seeped into her tone. He hadn't meant to upset her further.

"I'm sorry, that was really inappropriate. I forgot you hadn't..."

"Not since Somalia," Ziva nodded, and the weariness was back like a heavy blanket draped over her body, weighing it down. Shoulders drooping and eyes haunted, Ziva glanced up at Tony. He could tell that the memory of that night was playing at the forefront of both of their brains.

_"Do these hurt?" Tony asked quietly, gentle fingers tracing the jagged white scars marring Ziva's back. He could feel her naked body, spooned against his, tense at the question._

_"Only when I am remembering, and then there is sometimes phantom pain, yes," Ziva admitted in a minuscule whisper. "But that was only one of Saleem's methods for torture. I almost preferred the beatings to..."_

_Ziva trailed off, either unwilling or unable to share more, but Tony's mind had never been slow when it came to filling in the blanks. __Unbidden, fury reared up like a provoked snake in his belly. Tony could practically feel his jaw clenching with the effort of keeping that wild rage at bay, so instead he settled with pulling Ziva taut against him. As if her presence, her heat tangling with his, could chase away the murderous fantasies currently plaguing his thoughts._

_"Tell me if I'm overstepping any invisible lines here, but... when we first started, and you seemed to hesitate, was it because you were... remembering again?"_

_Ziva turned in Tony's powerful grasp to press her front against his. She buried her head in his fuzzy chest and took a deep breath, arms wrapping themselves around his neck. "I had to conquer a couple personal demons, but it was not... as difficult and unpleasant as I imagined it would be. You should know, Tony- you are my first after... after what happened in Somalia. And I am glad it was you. I do not think I could have trusted anyone else the way I trust you. No other man has ever had my back the way you have mine. When I am with you, I do not have to be afraid; I do not have to pretend." _

_Tony nuzzled his nose in Ziva's curls, revelling in the smell that was uniquely hers; a heady combination of vanilla and sweat and their recent sex. He felt her smile against his heart and returned the gesture with a kiss to her temple. "I'm glad it was me too, Zi."_

Tony passed a hand over his eyes, beginning to pace the cramped confines of the elevator. How nice it had been to stop pretending, if only for one night. But never in his wildest dreams did Tony ever believe there would be unforeseen consequences that followed them back to D.C. Never did he anticipate that _he- _Anthony DiNozzo, playboy extraordinaire- would be expecting a child with none other than the sometimes love, sometimes bane of his existence, Ziva David... "God, Ziva, I just- I can't believe this. We used protection. _Both_ of us were on protection! We did practically everything we could to ensure something like, like _this_, couldn't happen!"

"Well, we have always been the exception, have we not?" Ziva commented softly, and Tony looked down at the quiet but noticeable undertone of yearning residing in her voice. And then it hit him.

"You want this baby... don't you?"

Ziva stared at the elevator wall directly across from her, not moving. Tony sighed, dropping to his knees next to the silent statue of his partner. He laid a hand on her shoulder. "Ziva-"

"Yes. Yes I do," Ziva inserted suddenly, fiercely, her head snapping to confront Tony's. Conviction and terror writhed for dominance in her wild mahogany depths. "All my life, I feel like I have been running. Running to do my father's bidding and running to escape his bidding. Running from the past to the present; on the fast track my whole career at Mossad. I ran away from _everything_, be it bullets or what I knew would make me truly happy; what I wanted with every fiber of my being since coming to NCIS. I ran, because I thought I was undeserving of those dreams; that I would never get the chance to stop pretending..."

Uninvited, but not unwelcome, Tony recalled a related exchange between he and Ziva, only a year previous.

_"I'm tired of pretending."_

_"So am I."_

She had sounded so heartbroken; so desperate...

Why hadn't he listened then?

A tear slipped past Ziva's defenses and Tony reached over to gingerly wipe it away, but Ziva's fingers caught him first. She pressed the back of his hand to her lips, eyes fervent and vulnerable. Tony was not sure how to react around this rarely seen side of his tough-skinned ninja, but he could emphasize with how overwhelmed and confused she must feel. They had created a life, the two of them. There was no denying it had been accidental, but now they held that life's fate in their unsteady, unprepared palms.

"Paris was my first taste of that seemingly unattainable freedom. When I told you I felt safe in your arms; that I did not have to pretend... I meant it, Tony," Ziva continued. "So I will not lie to you and tell you that I do not want this child; that I do not want a family. For a long time now, I have done nothing but run from what I have known innately to be the truth. I love you, Tony. And I love this baby; this piece of innocence and _us_ that I never believed possible. I am scared- scared as _hell_- but I do not want to run anymore. I am tired of it."

Tony felt a flood of warmth billow down his body; from his smile right down to his toes. Because Ziva said it. The three words he had been pining to bestow on her but always unsure he would receive in return, and now it was out there, in the open. She. Loved. Him. The Special Agent took a deep breath, twining his arm around Ziva to pull her snug against his chest like he had in their Paris hotel room only a month earlier. But unlike that night spent under satin moonlight, here there was only cold, reflective metal to watch their relationship make the jump that had been five years in coming.

"It's time to stop running," Tony agreed, laying a hand on Ziva's flat stomach. "I always wanted kids, do you know that? I thought maybe I could be a better father than mine ever was, but I was always turned off by the prospect of commitment. In my experience, relationships die just as quickly as they begin. I suppose in some ways I also ran; ran from the idea of real love, but I'm almost forty. It's time to grow up. To let myself fall down a few times along the way... And in the words of one very wise Israeli ninja chick, 'make a home for myself'. Ziva, I want that home to be with you. I want this child to enjoy the life we never had; to grow up without having to run or pretend. We can take it slow. Start with dinner; bring back Movie Night... We can make this relationship work, Zi. I _want _it to work." Tony dipped his head to Ziva's ear, warm breath tickling her lobe.

"And I have faith it will. Because I love you too, Ziva David. And if we've managed to make it this far without either of us murdering the other, I think that's a good sign we have the willpower and the strength to raise a little DiNozzo-David hybrid. However devilishly, beautifully dangerous our assassin baby will be..."

Ziva released a watery giggle, and Tony couldn't help but add his own at the image of their undeniably unique genes joining right beneath his very fingertips. It made him shiver with joy and not just a little pride, until in stampeded the damper on their private celebration.

"We have to tell Gibbs, Tony. This is going to affect the whole team."

Tony grimaced. "I know. Think my head will ever sit straight after he's through with me?"

Ziva laughed, pulling away so she could tease Tony with her idiosyncratic smirk full of affectionate jest. Her fingers caressed the back of his head, where the Special Agent was sure a bald spot would soon form. "Perhaps. Or perhaps not." She pulled a serious face. "This is not going to be easy, Tony. If you change your mind-"

"Ziva, I don't think I've ever been more sure about anything my entire life," Tony interjected. "I _will_ be here for you, and for our baby. That's a promise."

Ziva tweaked his cheek. "Even if Gibbs decides to forgo his headslap, and instead make use of the sniper rifle?"

Tony shivered theatrically, pushing himself up off the elevator floor while offering Ziva a hand. The ex-assassin accepted, but even after the two were vertically balanced, she refused to let go. Tony looked down at the ebony-haired beauty and smiled. "A risk I'm willing to take. Are you ready?"

He squeezed Ziva's hand and she exhaled loudly. "As ready as I will ever be to tell Gibbs we not only broke Rule #12, but the swan paid us a visit..."

"The... oh. You mean 'stork'."

"Whatever the heck that white bird is," Ziva snapped, and Tony had to stifle his mirth. Oh, they would be just fine. His gut was positive of that.

Tony flipped the emergency switch and the elevator sprung to life, opening almost instantaneously into the bullpen. They stepped out and nearly knocked noses with, speak of the devil, Gibbs himself. As it was, the man currently bore coffee, coat, and an irate glower of epic proportions.

"What the hell were you two doing, holed up in conference for the last eleven point two minutes...?" the silver-haired team leader inquired with appalled inflection, but he trailed off at the sight of Tony and Ziva's hands still locked in fond embrace. Gibbs' bright blue eyes seemed to bounce up and down as the significance registered, and his lips twitched upward as the former Gunnery Sergaent brushed past Tony and Ziva into the elevator. Along the way he transfered a hard smack to the back of Tony's head, who winced, but the action was not unexpected.

"...Boss?"

"Took you long enough, DiNozzo," Gibbs grunted quietly, and his visage was a strange mix of gleeful and knowing before the two metal panels concealed his features.

Tony stared.

Ziva sighed.

And then the Very Special Agent groaned. "Well, _crap_."

Ziva patted her partner. "There is always tomorrow."

Tony gave the tiniest whimper. "My head hurts already."

Ziva laced her arm through his, going up on tiptoe to deliver the softest of kisses onto Tony. There was silence as the couple lost themselves in the grappling of lips and wrestling of bodies, then Ziva chuckled, "About that date..."

~Fin~

* * *

A/N: So... hmm. Let me know how I did; I have mixed feelings about this story. It started out strong but ended rather contrived, in my opinion. Drop me a line and offer some feedback, kay? This is the first time I've tackled a Tony/Ziva pregnancy. For a one shot, I hope this was cogent, and that the characters progressed in a satisfactory enough manner to seem realistic.

*hugs*

**AngelMoon Girl**


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